Altered States and Inner Shifts
By Cheeseburger Buddha
It is time I speak of my experiences with drugs—some of which had a deep and lasting impact on my life. I can safely say that I was, quite literally, stoned on marijuana since my preschool years—unknowingly, through the constant haze of secondary smoke wafting from the adults in my village.
In my birthplace of Sungai Pinang, there was—and still is—a local hub called the Baharul Alam Football Club (BAFC). It was a rest and recreation port for working men and bachelors. Their ritual was simple: come together after work, share stories, light up joints of ganja, and feast on pillow-sized servings of Nasi Kandar once the munchies kicked in.
As children, we clung to the grill fence that separated us from the grown-ups. We loved the smell. They'd blow smoke into our faces jokingly, and though they'd try to shoo us off, they eventually gave up. We got stoned without even knowing it. Afterward, we'd run wild as cowboys and Indians or pirates, riding the tide through the mangrove estuary.
This went on for most of my childhood. The adults even nicknamed me “Mata Nishan,” for my half-closed eyelids and silly grin. Later, they would laugh and remind me how I used to stumble around like a little stoner Buddha.
Early Schooling Under a Cloud
Despite it all, I did well in primary school—except in mathematics. Looking back, I wonder if my mind was affected by the constant inhalation of second-hand marijuana smoke. Perhaps it dulled my linear thinking.
Still, I excelled in Art, English, and anything requiring imagination or intuition. I often topped the class in intelligence tests, yet always struggled with math and science.
First Official High
I didn’t touch drugs on my own until after finishing secondary school. It was in Johor, in the small town of Segamat, where a friend took me into a forest hut surrounded by marijuana plants. There, I had my first real puff.
I remember the moment vividly: riding back to my friend's house on a motorbike, complaining that I couldn’t feel my arms. He laughed and held me tight so I wouldn’t fall off. That was the first real high that stuck in my memory.
Marijuana was illegal even then in the '60s, but not heavily policed. I never became addicted, even when it was accessible—until my college years in the United States.
Higher Learning and Higher States
At the University of Wisconsin–Green Bay (UWGB), marijuana was everywhere. I became immersed in it, using it not just recreationally but as part of my spiritual exploration.
One of my most memorable moments came during a lecture I gave to over 90 students in a class called Interpersonal Communication, taught by my friend and professor, Jack Frisch.
I had been agonizing over what to say about meditation for two full hours. Then, while sitting on a toilet, the answer arrived in the form of a forgotten ceramic pipe resting in a toilet paper bowl. That became my symbol.
I brought incense, Ravi Shankar music, and a bag of grass to class. I lit the incense, played the sitar, sat cross-legged on a table, and smoked the pipe in front of the students. Only one left. The rest sat wide-eyed as I shared my thoughts on meditation, mindfulness, and the folly of clinging to states of high.
I told them of how we leave behind ceramic bowls in toilets or lock ourselves out of our cars in our search for inner peace. It was bold, but there was no backlash—and Jack, too, had taken a beautiful risk in trusting me.
LSD and the Slide Show
I first took LSD while preparing to give another presentation in Jack’s class. I had popped the tab not long before entering the lecture hall, unsure of how it would unfold. Martha, my then-girlfriend, accompanied me just in case.
As the acid began to take hold, I looked out a window and saw a small tree glowing gold in a sea of swaying, golden grass. It grounded me. Then the slides began—hundreds of them—depicting my journey through Malaysia: weddings, Thaipusam, the headhunters of Borneo, the beaches of Kapas.
I spoke for two hours without a break, lost in the moment. The experience was profound. The audience was captivated, and I made friends that day. I donated the slides to the International Student Center as a gift to the future.
The Blue Trip and the Burned Art
One trip turned dark. I was living in a trailer with a woman and dropped acid alone while depressed. A mistake. Everything turned blue—deep, emotional blue. I couldn't escape it. In a fit of despair, I destroyed nearly all my artwork from that semester.
That marked the end of my LSD use.
Sacred Fungi and the Shifting Spine
Mushrooms were a different story. I first tried psilocybin while living at Green Gulch Farm, a Zen community in Marin County, California. The mushrooms had a physical effect on me—I could feel my bones realigning, especially my spine. Sitting in meditation, I’d hear vertebrae popping into place until my skull aligned with the base.
Sometimes, an energy would rise from below, exploding near my neck and sending tremors through my body. I always sat alone when combining shrooms with Zazen. I witnessed the interplay between mind, body, and breath with crystal clarity.
The Andes and Out-of-Body Flight
My most unforgettable mushroom journey happened in Esperanza, a mountain village in the Andes of Ecuador. I’ve written extensively about this in previous blog posts, particularly one titled Out of Body Experience – Magic Mushroom / Ecuador. I invite you to read that for a full account.
Peyote and Sonic Flashes
I also experimented with peyote in New Mexico. Unfortunately, the dose was small and the effects minor—though I did witness sound manifesting as flashes of light in my head. It was brief and surreal.
Studied Curiosity
I never took these substances blindly. I traveled the American Southwest with Carlos Castaneda’s books as my guide. I devoured the works of Ram Dass and Timothy Leary, learning the terrain of the mind before ever ingesting the map.
These journeys taught me not just about altered states but about what remains unaltered. They brought me closer to silence, to awareness, to the sacred absurdity of being human.
Where I Stand Now
Today, I no longer indulge—not even in marijuana, though it was always my drug of choice. In Malaysia, drug use is a serious offense, and it is not worth the risk. But more than that, I’ve come to value clarity over clouds, awareness over anesthesia.
I’ve taken the ride. I’ve touched the edges. I’ve returned, mostly whole.
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